Twas advertised in Boston,
New York and Buffalo;
Five hundred brave Americans
A-whaling for to go.
Chorus:
Blow, ye winds, in the morning;
Blow, ye winds, I-0;
Haul away your runnin' gear,
And blow, ye winds, I-0.
They send you to New Bedford,
A famous whaling port,
And give you to some Land Sharks,
To board and fit you out.
They tell you of the Clipper Ship
A-runnin' in and out,
And say you'll take 500 sperm,
Before you're six months out.
And now we're out to sea, my boys,
The wind comes on to blow,
One-half the watch is sick on deck
The other half below.
The skipper's on the quarter deck
A-squintin' at the sails,
When up above, the lookout sights
A mighty school of whales.
Then lower down the boats, my boys,
And after him we'll travel,
But if you get too near his fluke
He'll kick you to the Devil.
And now that he is ours, my boys,
We'll tow him along side,
Then over with our blubberhooks,
And rob him of his hide.
When we get home, our ship made fast
And we get thru our sailing,
A brimming glass around we'll pass
And darn this blubber whalin'.